Shaggy Dog Tale, Part 1

In my last post, I mention too briefly that “my dog died.” This dog played such an important role in my life for nearly 12 years, he deserves a bit more attention than three stark words.

Who can resist a shaggy dog? Not me; not ever.

Have you ever seen a more English-looking Old English Sheepdog? That's my Humphrey!

My first shaggy dog came to me when I was 18. He was the only purebred dog who ever kept company with me. Humphrey, the product of a divorce, was in need of a home. My mom found out about him at work and she offered to take him on a trial basis. This was a generous act given that we (my mom, younger sister, and me) lived in a trailer. There wasn’t much wiggle room in that trailer, especially when my older sister came home from college for a visit.

On the evening of February 12, 1976, Humphrey bounded into our lives. Not the shy or bashful type, he was one huge ball of gray motion from head to hindquarters. Since he had no tail, his whole back-end waggled as he investigated the trailer, our cat’s food and bed, and our crotches. The only thing not gray on him was his lolling pink tongue. His owner didn’t stay long, leaving some food, a toy, a dish, and a leash. There were no sentimental good-byes; she just left. I think she forgot the “trial run” part. So did I.

Upon closer inspection, we found that Humphrey was gray all over because he was filthy and matted. A week later, we got him to a groomer who had to sheer him down like a sheep. A full-coated, groomed OES is a regal sight indeed; an OES shaved to the skin, however, looks a lot like a goat. I tried not to laugh, but couldn’t help it—naked was not a good look for him. When he was clipped, I told people he was an Austrian Elk Hound, just to avoid questions.

Austrian Elk Hounds, like unicorns, don't exist, but does this look like a shaggy dog to you?

Mom decided it was time for this little bird and her big dog to fly the coop. Humphrey and I moved to the 3rd floor of a very rundown building in the “city” in which I attended college. City living took some adjusting. I had to go down 3 flights of stairs and walk him and then go back up 3 flights of stairs several times a day. We both got lots of exercise. His leash manners were abysmal and he wanted to crotch-maul visit every person we passed. Humphrey was everyone’s best friend; I was the girl with the sore arms at the other end of the leash.

He lost me somewhere in a snow bank after yanking the leash. I never did find my mittens.

On one of our walks, Humphrey decided I was his “one and only.” We were walking in the alley behind my building and Humphrey stepped on a piece of glass from a broken beer bottle. He yipped in pain, sat down, and lifted his paw. Stoic he wasn’t. I carefully extracted the glass fragment while telling him that he was fine. He put his paw down and must have felt immediate relief. Then he looked up at me between the locks of hair covering his one brown and one blue eye with a look that said: “You are my savior!” From that moment on, Humphrey was loyal only to me.

If this isn't proof that Humphrey would do anything for me...

...this might convince you of his devotion to me.

Humphrey was both eccentric and had oodles of charisma. Walking him was like walking with a movie star. If he could have given autographs, he would have. The most common question people had:

“Can he see?”—Yes, he needs all that hair to protect his excellent vision from bright light. Humphrey would immediately walk into the side of a building or a sign post.

“Does he herd sheep?—Not that I’ve noticed since he hasn’t been around sheep, but he once stalked and knocked the head off a snowman he thought looked sketchy.

This goofy dog with his big, happy bark protected me from break-ins–every apartment around me was robbed, but not mine. He waited patiently for me to wake up when I was passed out drunk or when I came home late from dates. His greetings were always the same: eager eyes, wiggling butt, and tongue hanging to one side in a goofy grin. There was no one better than me in Humphrey’s world.

We loved each other unconditionally, like in the movies--complete with my flowing blonde hair, white dress and a tender kiss. Fade to dark screen and dreamy music...

Stay tuned to a story sure to tickle any person who has ever tried to train a pet…

I’ve said it so many time, I have lots of “somebodies” looking out for me. Humphrey came to me because we needed each other and he’s still in my heart. I’ve left out so many detail of my life story–this one couldn’t be untold.

Yeah, that’s how I felt the moment he came bombing into my life. I’ve been bless with some wonderful canine characters. He was the first and will always remain special because he was with me during a time when I really needed “someone” to love me for me. No one did that better than that goofy guy.

Thanks for sharing your story, one dog lover to another. I got misty-eyed going through the photos to write this piece and the one I posted today. The next one will be the hardest. But the joy of having a special character like Humphrey in my life comes with the consequences of having to say good-bye. Get your Kleenex out…

Thanks for sharing Mollie’s story. I love hearing about other OES’s. Yes, Humphrey was quite self-aware of his nudity. He was embarrassed and I would warn people not to laugh at him. He would try to hide–not typical of this attention-hound! Also, he would greet me by standing up and giving me a bear-hug around the waist. And I mean he would squeeze me with his front paws and lick my face. He could have been my Dancing With the Stars dancing partner!

Thanks. He was, indeed, a super star. I got misty-eyed going through the photos. The last installment of this series is going to be a tough one to write. Dogs, well, all pets, live in your heart forever–at least they do in mine!

Thanks for stopping by, reading and commenting. Come back again soon!

wordsfallfrommyeyesSep 29, 2011 @ 03:24:41

Sounds like a real, true relationship with you and your dog. You did him justice on this page – he’s a star!

I tried to have a dog, to get over my fear of them but it’s not gone completely. I like dogs from a distance but at least I’m less nervous
around them. The shaggy ones are rather cute, I have to say.

mollySep 28, 2011 @ 20:41:13

Humphrey probably saved your sanity Lorna – bloggers com appreciate this as we get to share in your adventures – OES are very special, Wendy inherited ‘mollie’ due to a divorce too – that was one smart hound, kept the ducks, hens and galahs in line (no mean feat) and the foxes at bay at night – on my arrival, mollie wagged and wiggled everything with delight, when time came to leave, she would sashay up to me and firmly plant her foot on my foot and peer up at me – maybe her way of saying ‘stay a while longer’ – never seen a shorn OES, Humphrey looks utterly discombobbled at his nudity, cheers catchul8r molly

I am a hopeless dog-person and this post touched me to the center of my heart, Lorna. My little papillion is cuddled up beside me. The heardest thing is to lose a dog. A couple of years ago we lost 2 in as many months. My husband said, “No more. It’s too hard.” I more or less explained I could possible do without him, but not a dog. Within 2 weeks we had these two little rescues. The other one is a deaf Jack Russell. Lovin’ Humphrey. He was a special dog, I can see. I’m working on the interview questions now and will try to get them out to you tonight.

I love Humphrey, too. Gosh … he has my hair-do. Such a precious little – I mean – big dog. I wish I could go inside the minds of dogs and cats. They are so faithful and loving – sometimes – more than people.
You were fortunate to have had a faithful and loving friend like him. ~~ : – )
Toodles,
Izzy

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